


Bloom cont.

by yuuri_nsane



Series: Rhododrendron [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Help, M/M, Prince Viktor, Royalty AU, also yuuri is a maid, dont ask me why i sound so dead in the tags, give yuuri a break, guang-hong ji is in love, hey georgis mentioned i almost forgot, ji hasnt done the laundry, maid yuuri, phichit specialises in plants, viktors a lil shit, what do i tag, yuuri just wants to see flowers, yuuris done with everyones shit, yuuris too nice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:47:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28316247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuuri_nsane/pseuds/yuuri_nsane
Summary: Chamberlain Yuuri Katsuki has grown into quite a hard-working young man. He’s efficient, really, and surprisingly strong (at least when it comes to hauling ridiculous heaps of laundry, and trapping the likes of royalty within his arms on a whim). Although considerably quiet, irrational and paranoid, one thing’s for sure: all he wants to do is see the gorgeous blooming of The Royal Azalea. What happens when someone interrupts his way there, in a partially concerning, and definitely suspicious way?
Relationships: Ji Guang-Hong & Katsuki Yuuri, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Leo de la Iglesia/Ji Guang-Hong, Phichit Chulanont & Katsuki Yuuri
Series: Rhododrendron [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073798
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. Part Two

**Author's Note:**

> this has also been posted on my tumblr account @yuuri-nsane

_“…What do you say?”_

Yuuri could only stare at the prince; entranced by his words alone.

Not like he wasn’t completely floored by other aspects of _The Prince Viktor Nikiforov_ \- considering this was probably the only time he’d held more than a three-word exchange with the man, he could barely believe the circumstance he had somehow found himself in.

_It was most definitely a dream._

_And Yuuri most definitely prayed to any deity that was willing to listen, that he would wake up._

_Any time now._

See, Yuuri was more than horrified that he had not only touched the prince in an unwarranted manner, but that the prince was set on _thanking_ him for it!

His gaze trailed tragically along the extended arm laid out before him (since when had that happened?), as if his majesty had expected for Yuuri to take his hand and ride into the sunset with him in a golden carriage, like a damned princess.

And the chamberlain, quite unfortunately, knew he was anything _but_.

Yuuri retraces his steps, recalling how exactly he had found himself face to face with the crown prince of Vreosia, who was next in line to take the throne and become king.

—

It had been quite a long day.

And Yuuri was more than ready to fall asleep on the hard, cold, _so very cold_ , floor of the corridors.

For he had insisted for some unknown reason, that he were to cover for Guang-Hong Ji - who had not incidentally, no, _purposefully_ , attended to his own chores in the castle.

For the last three days that is.

_How had he not been caught?!_

Yuuri couldn’t help the small, indignant screech that had echoed the walls of storage room when the launderer had first cornered him, early in the morning, begging for help. Supposedly, he had been sneaking around the castle to meet one of the guards. What was his name, Lenny? Lucas? No, it was…Logan…? Wait! _Leo_!

Anyway, their schedules had never lined up, so Ji had risked it all for a little rendezvous.

It was basically love at first sight, he had whispered dreamily.

Yuuri couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that, and yet a subtle smile graced his lips lovingly.

And because of his golden heart, he had thus agreed to finish up Ji’s aborted chores around the castle.

_With the condition, of course, that this would never happen again, and Ji would do his own chores from now on._

_The launderer had agreed with much reluctance, to which Yuuri had responded with a light sigh and a general ‘if you want to see that soldier again, you’re going to have to put the work in - and not get into trouble’._

Much to Yuuri’s dismay, there was a lot more to do than he had first expected.

He could barely fathom the pile of dirty sheets in the corner of the spare bedroom Ji had ended up secretly leading him to - it was almost as tall as him for goodness’ sake!

Not to mention the additional list that his friend had sheepishly handed him: an entire two pages.

If Phichit saw him now, he’d never hear the end of it.

Three days worth of tasks, and Yuuri had exactly one day to do them all.

He was going to die.

And probably by suffocation of laundry.

-

Luckily, he did not.

He had just managed to sweep the floors of the spare bedroom and change the linen of the bed as dusk so elegantly arrived. Getting rid of the evidence was far too demanding, though Yuuri swallowed his complaints; he would never in a thousand years jeopardise Ji or himself for being caught for something as menial as a failure to do the laundry.

Prior to that, he had laboriously struggled with said laundry, the whole day consisting of his efforts to drag ridiculous masses of extravagant cloths down to the laundry rooms to be washed.

It was laughable, Yuuri concluded, how an entire castle full of at least fifty, had enough riches to provide for them all - and yet it was spent only on such materialistic values, that just the royal family could actually use or even _touch_.

Yuuri shook his head, he needed to hurry up. He had been planning to make way to the gardens for weeks now - but hadn’t had such a chance. Especially with having to tend to Ji’s overlooked errands.

The maid sighed as he paced through the halls, away from the bedrooms and further downstairs. _The Royal Azalea_ were rumoured to bloom quite beautifully during the springtime, and as luck would have it, the castle gardens had quite the selection. Though in the three quiet years that he had been working for the royal family, he’d never been able to actually take a look.

Once, Phichit (a very close friend who he had first met when he started working in the castle) had recognised that the _Rhododendron Schlippenbachii_ were quite so extravagant.

Trust Yuuri to avow shamefully that the binomial name of this flower had slipped through one ear of his and out the other.

But to Yuuri’s relief, Phichit had also disclosed the more manageable name, albeit excitedly spurting more random facts about the flowers as well, which Yuuri could barely remember.

It was the chamberlain’s own fault for becoming friends with someone who specialised in plants, specifically that in the Castle’s herber.

Hurrying slightly, the young man sped almost desperately through the castle - wishing to see the flowers already. He had things to do tomorrow, and God knew that he was too impatient to miss the blooming for the third time in a row.

He continued, carefully watching out for any patrols - as a now usual resident of the castle, and a working maid of so, he was nonchalant. He thought about which route to take, knowing that conveniently, going through the kitchens would be quicker and there would be less a chance of being stopped by guards outside. Yuuri shuddered: he wouldn’t know how to explain himself if that happened.

_“Oh, I just wanted to see The Royal Azalea in bloom, so I snuck out of the castle after dark! Which violates the rules of the castle, because you probably mistook me for a barbarian or worse! Not like you can get worse than that or something. But either way, that meant having to leave your posts to chase me down! What a waste of time and space!”_

Now that he had reflected on it, there was actually nothing to think about.

He headed straight to the cookery.

As he skipped stealthily into the aisle leading to the kitchens, his breath caught. He stiffened. His eyes glued relentlessly to the back of a silhouette that creeped through the large, umber doors and into the kitchens.

A-a _thief_?

Yuuri shook his head.

No. There was no way a thief could’ve managed to sneak through the guards. Not with the new recruits…

Then Yuuri painfully remembered, most had little to no training nor experience, for the castle had been suffering a shortage of soldiers for quite some time now. Vreosia had always been a peaceful kingdom, but with new threat now arising from a nearby domain and its ruffians, the royal family had decided to take precautions - blindly, if Yuuri could say so much, taking in as many willing volunteers and making them swear their loyalty over to the Nikiforov’s.

The chamberlain winced. He squeezed his eyes and counted slowly.

_1…2…_

_This wasn’t his responsibility._

_…3…4…_

_He should just make a run for the maid’s quarters; pretend he saw nothing._

_…5…6…_

_He didn’t want any trouble._

_…7…8…_

_He was only a maid._

_…9…_

_He’ll probably die if he followed them._

_10._

Yuuri sighed in frustration. A long and deep exhale gushed out of his nostril and onto the cupid’s bow of his lips.

He continued after the mysterious shadow.

In doing so, he slipped through the doors leading into the cookery, and watched discreetly, as the offender passed the island in the middle - their silver hair gleaming in the moonlight that squeezed through the cracks in between hanging cutlery, and from the mighty window beside.

Wait-

-silver hair?

Silver, as in…

Yuuri gasped against his will. He quickly covered his mouth in disbelief, the realisation hitting him square in the face like a brick.

It was Viktor Nikiforov.

No, it was _The Viktor Nikiforov._

The _Prince_ Viktor Nikiforov: beloved by the entire kingdom for, well, _everything_.

Not only was he, for lack of better words, _Prince Charming_ \- but he was also the same man who had given Katsuki Yuuri quite a memorable first day at the castle.

With that, Yuuri recollects, the time he had witnessed Prince Nikiforov get absolutely hounded by both the King and his advisor at what was barely sunrise, for sneaking out of boundaries at such a late time.

Yuuri had spent the day being somewhat awkwardly showed around by none other than Phichit and Guang-Hong Ji, as well the the Steward; Georgi Popovich.

And funnily enough, the day didn’t exactly end there.

He giggles, barely audible, as he remembers the way the entire castle had been awoken by Yakov’s uninterrupted reprimanding, along with the King’s very audible (so much so that it was slightly concerning) sighs and face palms.

All the staff, now disturbed from their slumber, stayed curious and intrigued in the lower chambers of the castle. They had somehow managed to convince Yuuri and Phichit (mostly just Phichit who had tugged Yuuri along without much pity) to go and see what the fuss was all about.

The two had made their way to the Great Hall, where Prince Nikiforov was sitting at a marvellous table, surrounded by the King and who Yuuri had assumed to be the prince’s advisor, Yakov. He also remembers the four other guards present in the room, who seemed to shrink away as Yakov continued to yell in absolute annoyance.

He doesn’t remember what exactly they had been discussing, but Yuuri reminisces the bored look on Viktor’s face - but also dwells on the underlying fear that had been ever-present in his body language.

He goes as far as to think about the fact that he swears the crown prince had saw him then, behind a small entrance to the left, where he had hidden stupidly with Phichit: who seemed content staying in the corner behind Yuuri, listening carefully to the gossip but shielding himself away from the source - much to his exasperation.

With a hesitant flinch that became a full turn of his head, he remembers the way his highness’ eyes had widened ever so slightly at him; the unmistakable eye-contact.

Curious blue eyes that glinted magically in a dizzy haze - an almost taunting look that beckoned Yuuri from the darkness. He also remembers the vague purse of his lips, a thin line that the maid couldn’t help but fantasise about. Not to mention his shining hair and smooth-looking skin.

_He wonders briefly what it would feel like to hold his face in his hands._

He’s never told anybody about this.

Not Guang-Hong Ji, nor Phichit - who, as previously mentioned, had hidden behind Yuuri at the time, and so he missed exact moment the prince had possibly seen them, because it had been blocked off from his field of view. And either way, if Yuuri had ever told either of them about his little crush on the blue blood, he’d never live it down. They’d tease and meddle and so on.

The chamberlain was much more content admiring such beauty from afar. _Quietly_ , that is.

_And he knew, obviously, he wasn’t the only admirer of Prince Viktor Nikiforov: royals and peasants alike._

Yuuri’s glad it was almost pitch black in the Hall then, save for a few lit candles that had been placed atop the dining table as well as the one that the advisor had been holding, well, _waving around quite dangerously._

If it hadn’t been-

He’s suddenly snapped out of his thoughts, after hearing an almost silent but nevertheless, shrill creak of a door.

The back door.

Why was Prince Nikiforov…?

Oh…

He was sneaking out.

_Again._

Yuuri raised an unimpressed eyebrow - of course, this handsome but likely spoiled brat was intent on getting into more trouble.

He hadn’t truly met the man, only exchanging polite greetings when he happened to set foot into the same room as him - a room in which would coincidentally happen to be where Yuuri was carrying out a task of his or two.

_This had only happened a measly three times, over the expanse of his near three-year stay in the castle._

He supposes it’s not fair to call his majesty spoilt or a brat, or any combination of the two. Not when he at least acknowledged him when he entered the room, unlike other important people who had visited the Nikiforov’s kingdom for whatever business.

(And being born into fortune wasn’t his fault anyway - it didn’t automatically make him the selfish person Yuuri had first prejudiced)

He’d always kept his down during his completion of tasks, though - never fully looking the prince in the eye, minding his own affairs and scurrying away as soon as he’d finished.

He feared that he would be recognised from that night in the Great Hall, a good three years ago - if the royal _had_ truly seen him.

He had taken extra precautions anyway, always avoiding the prince when he could afford to, and dragging someone with him to hide behind when needed. He knows he hadn’t let the his majesty get a good look at his face, and yet, it wasn’t enough to truly ensure that he wouldn’t have registered his face by now. But it _was_ enough to deceptively relieve Yuuri of the constant nagging worry that he’d be punished for eavesdropping on a fairly private matter.

And besides, it wasn’t as if he had run into the man in question a countless number of times afterward - again, Yuuri could recall their one-on-one encounters on only one hand.

Even more so, he recounts that there had been a sort of business that the royal family had to attend to over the course of his first week there, meaning that Yuuri and other newly hired staff hadn’t been properly introduced. Additionally, they never found the time afterwards, and soon enough two years and three quarters had passed, and no one in the castle felt introductions were quite so needed anymore.

_This meant that his majesty hopefully wouldn’t recognise him if he saw him, nor would he recall his name._

Yuuri had begun to head back out the kitchen, making a silent promise to visit the flowers tomorrow, when he noted a flicker of black through the corner of his eye.

A shape that had flitted across the expanse of the large window of the cookery.

Out of intuition, Yuuri ran over to the crown prince, wordlessly apologising before yanking him by the shoulders, away from the door and forcing his mouth shut with a single hand.

He had underestimated his own strength - or overestimated the prince’s; it seemed that the taller man struggled in his grasp, bending backward to accommodate Yuuri’s stand.

_Perhaps carrying all that laundry had toughened him up._

The chamberlain stumbled blindly over to the wall behind, grappling against the royalty he had bundled up in his grasp.

It was then that he had begged the Prince to stay quiet, which had somehow proved effective with the sudden stillness of the man.

Or maybe it was because he could now hear the idle chatter of two guards from outside.

Yuuri’s fairly sure he heard the name 'Leo’.

The name of the mystery man Ji had been sneaking around to meet. The very man who was probably the reason why Yuuri found himself backed up into a wall, currently giving what might’ve looked like a back-hug to _Prince Viktor Nikiforov_ , but was instead a strange and sad parody of something more aggressive.

He silently curses him.

Soon enough, the guards had dashed away, and Yuuri had mentally started saying thank you, to who, he wasn’t sure - yet, it didn’t cease his sudden joy for successfully staying hidden away from said guards.

_Yuuri can pinpoint, however, the exact moment it all went to shit._

Prince Nikiforov had half the mind to, all of a sudden, push Yuuri off of him, and pin him down to the wall - reversing their roles of captive and captor.

The maid recalls the initial overwhelming _fear_ that had possessed his body then, and he was certain he was to be executed by dawn.

_Who would’ve thought he’d live to tell the tale?_

—

His lips parted in anticipated response, not yet fully knowing what he wanted to say.

_Viktor Nikiforov now knew exactly what he looked like, as well as his given name. All his efforts over the years, gone lay to waste._

_He should’ve minded his own business._

_He could try to run as far and fast as his legs would allow, but it would do nothing to aid Yuuri, for the royal family could put a bounty on his head with such information._

_Wonderful._

The prince stood, awaiting, arm still stretched out invitingly toward Yuuri, hopeful blue eyes that made the chamberlain feel small.

Yuuri flushes yet again, embarrassed and unsure - the crown prince was quite the charmer, he’d allowed himself to admitwithout much indifference.

It was then that the abrupt clatter of armour could be distinctly heard again, and two out-of-breath soldiers came bustling through the back kitchen door - one pointing accusingly at the maid himself.

_“I told you I heard something!”_


	2. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki are met with two inexperienced guards? Whatever might happen next?

_“I told you I heard something!”_

Viktor jolted in fright, whipping his head round to the commotion that had appeared uninvited. His face a clear portrayal of scepticism and slight irritation, as he watched the newly affronted guards catch their breath for but a moment.

One had an accusing finger pointed at Yuuri, an expression of incredulity plastered messily on his face. He seemed more doubtful of the situation than anybody else, as if he were expecting the younger man to disappear right before his eyes.

He began to ramble, his voice screeching frantically as he bounced on the spot. The guard ignored Yuuri’s obvious agitation, whether to his knowledge or lack of, and began hurling questions one after another.

_“Who are you?!”_

_“What are you doing in the kitchens at this hour?”_

_“You-You’re not a thief, are you? Or a ruffian? Or, oh God, not an assassin - please don’t be an assassin-”_

The other guard stood, stoic and seemingly unbothered. He closed his eye in what looked to be hushed ire, before sighing and opening them again. He quirked an eyebrow at the shorter man before him; Yuuri looked away swiftly from both guards - humiliated and looking quite ready for the night to end.

The reserved among the two soldiers had an analytical gaze meander from the shorter male and along an outstretched arm. He seemed to realise what his partner had failed to notice: there was not one, but _two_ people currently in the scullery.

The indifferent guard slowly looked upward, meeting another gaze. 

He gulped, quite obviously.

Viktor noticed this soldier’s sudden reaction - now smug and awaiting.

“Leo,” the stiff man began softly, eyes wider than saucers as he attempted to gain the other’s attention. It did little to do so nonetheless, as Leo’s one-sided confrontation with Yuuri was still ongoing.

“ _Leo_ ,” he tried again - a more stern edge in his voice, accompanied by a gentle yet simultaneously harsh shove.

Leo simply ignored his partner, still fixed entirely on Yuuri.

“ _Leo!_ ”

That, caught the over-eager male. His head whirled to look at his companion, uncertainty all but scribbled onto his face at the panicked cry that had evaded the room.

“Seung-Gil Lee,” he finally acknowledged, “What is it?”

Seung-Gil Lee, or Lee - as we’d discover in a moment, raised an all but shaky hand, palm faced upwards and directed at Viktor.

“It’s the prince. The crown prince. _It’s Prince Nikiforov_ ,” he all but babbled, a stark contrast to the calm and aloof character he had first presented.

There was a deafening silence before Leo turned to Viktor, his expression morphing into absolute terror.

Viktor let out a little chuckle - his extended arm coming to rest at his side. He threw a devious look at Yuuri, who was still frozen beside him - a look that screamed ’ _watch this_ ’.

Viktor noted the tiny choke that left Yuuri’s lips - _truly a magical sound_.

“Lee. Lee, tell me this is a dream. Tell me I didn’t just do that in front of Prince Nikifo- _oh my God, your majesty, I am so sorry!_ ” Leo pinched himself mid rant, his pain shown in his loud exclamation and sudden blasphemy. He bowed unceremoniously, a clumsy action that nearly had him tumbling face first into the tiled floors of the kitchen.

He stayed there for a second, before noting that Lee was still stood straight - stiff and still in shock. He made a grab for his partner’s back, pushing his palm flat, and forcing the other into a rapid bend.

“Ah, your-your highness! We didn’t-we didn’t realise-!”

The crown prince held his hand up, signalling Lee to a halt.

The prince stepped forward, pulling the soldiers at their shoulders to bring them upright. He said, chipperly, “Please, it was an honest mistake! At this time of night, I’m not surprised you almost didn’t see me at all!”

Viktor allowed for a blinding heart-shaped smile to grace his lips - his cheeks plumping and eyes crinkling.

“Ah, um, ye-yes, your highness. Thank you, for being so considerate,” the shorter soldier squeaked. _Leo, was it?_ Viktor questioned silently, as the other continued, “If, if you don’t mind me asking, your majesty, but-but uh, what were you doing here at such a late hour?”

Viktor flinched involuntarily - right, how would he explain that? He wasn’t stupid, he knew confessing to sneaking out wouldn’t end in his favour. The guards were bound to rat him out to Yakov, it was their job after all, and Viktor all but knew he wouldn’t live to see the light of day if Yakov found out he was still sneaking out.

Well.

He didn’t get to sneak out anyway, since Yuuri had stopped-

Yuuri.

_Yuuri._

That’s it!

Viktor grinned to himself, a little white lie forming into an entire charade in his mind.

He opened his mouth, words ready to fire and hopefully avoid an impending doom. Whilst doing so, he swivelled round, ready to pull Yuuri by his side - _seconds away from truly selling whatever story he could_.

He blinked.

In the exact spot Yuuri had stood was only something empty - providing a clear view of a door held ajar and a dark corridor.

The knights must’ve noticed too, for the prince heard a startled gasp and a very concerned, ‘where the hell did he go-?!’

Viktor grimaced. Without Yuuri, he was going to have to tell the truth.

Fuck.

—

“Vitya! You know why you’re not allowed out of the castle after dark! It’s too dangerous-!”

Viktor was barely listening. In fact, it was safe to say that he wasn’t listening at all: his mind solely focused on the enchanting enigma that was Yuuri Katsuki.

He didn’t have it in him to be angry at Yuuri’s betraying escape - after all, he could only imagine how scared he must’ve been to be confronted by the prince himself and two other guards.

As fleeting as a dream in the early hours of the morning, Viktor realised. Yuuri was there one moment, and gone the next. A beautiful and mysterious puzzle that Viktor wanted nothing more than to solve.

He was going to find him.

He still needed to thank him, of course. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Viktor may or may not have had such a little infatuation with the man. _No way_.

“-and yet, you still put yourself and this entire kingdom in danger by sneaking out and, and- Vitya? Viktor! _Are you even listening?!_ ”

That jostled Viktor from his internal conflict, and thus, he looked up from where he sat in his advisor’s office - offering the most charming smile he could.

“Why, excuse me, dear Yakov. I couldn’t help but notice,” he started, his voice dripping of honey, “ _have you lost weight?_ ”

Viktor didn’t know what hit him, not until he noted the advisor’s missing shoe.

“You brat! I can’t believe you! I-”

Yakov sighed. Viktor wondered briefly if he could make it to the door from where he was; maybe he could leg it into his room and take refuge there. It was a big enough living space, and of course dying by starvation sounded much more appealing than dying by Yakov’s sightless rage.

Instead of being met with said sightless rage, however, he was met with a wistful sigh and a soft look that he had ever rarely seen on the man’s face.

“I know you aren’t happy right now. Not with the… _the arrangement_.“ Yakov spat.

Viktor grimaced.

"And I know you want nothing more than to visit that garden. But I also know that stepping out of bounds at such a time will only put you in danger. You’re next in line to take the throne, Vitya. You can’t afford to risk this. The entire kingdom depends on you.”

He hated to admit it. But after listening to him, he realised Yakov was right. As much as he’d wanted to go into the gardens, well… There was still the underlying threat of ruffians from a neighbouring state. If he were to compromise his self, his kingdom wouldn’t survive.

He swallowed.

He looked over at the older male.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He feebly risked a glance at his advisor, regarding the tired smile resting on his features.

“Ah, Vitya. You’re still young, but you’re not a child anymore. Learn what’s good for you. Just take care of yourself,” Yakov whispered hoarsely. Soon enough, the caring look he portrayed was replaced with a more familiar exasperated expression. “Now get out of here - I have things to do and your father won’t be pleased if he finds me having a mothers’ meeting with the likes of his only heir.”

Viktor smiled cheekily, before standing up and heading to the door, almost tripping over Yakov’s shoe-turned-weapon.

Yakov was good to him, despite his _brash_ tendencies. He ought to give him a fruit basket every once in a while.

As he stepped out, he closed the door behind him, and looked over to his right. A large glass-paned window, and before it stood a table with a vase full of dying flowers, and a peculiar small statue of smooth rock. It was of a woman, bathing in the golden sunlight just beginning to peak over the horizon. Behind her, Viktor looked out the window, and watched the pink and gold of the dawning day begin to bleed into one another; an abstract painting littered with the graphite of soaring birds of all shapes and sizes.

_Beautiful_ , he thought, _like Yuuri._

He turned and decided his path, when he abruptly collided with something, or more so, _someone_. He was sent flying backwards, his hands coming to stop his complete fall behind him.

The prince, slightly dazed and left shaken, looked over to the culprit of his unexpected tumble.

Well, speak of the devil.

_“Yuuri?”_


End file.
